Life, to Ariana, had never been very nice. She had been raised by maids for the biggest part of it and had been tossed around with a lot as a child, to claim land, power, wealth for her family. Her short life had been filled with miseries of some kind and she had no way of coping with some of them, having married and divorced when she had not even reached thirteen – be it without sexual intercourse, it had been lonely and scaring to the young woman. Two months had she spent in Florence without anyone to talk to, anything to read, her friend Giulia by her side to laugh and gossip with. Her evenings there had been lonely, and her husband – a much older man – had taken strange women home and had not even cared for her. He had claimed her for power, power in other districts of the country that he did not (yet) possess. Remarried at the age of fourteen, she had found out about the cruelty of some men, being molested by her second husband for not granting him her most intimate self. The two had divorced again when she had reached the age of fifteen, claiming he was impotent, but truth be told – she managed to keep him away from her long enough to be freed again. It was no wonder Ariana doubted and questioned herself, why she could not be loved, why her family kept getting into business with other families, only to hurt her deeply and not ever welcome her back home again. Her elder brothers were officers in the army, her younger brother in school to become a bishop and gradually work his way up the catholic ladder, but she… she had been an accident. Never meant to exist, Ariana had lived in the shadow of the maids and had gotten used to physical as well as mental abuse from a very early age. Being told that she was stupid, ugly and unworthy of love, life had been harsh on her. She had found peace with that when she had been just a child, but had found out that there was more to life than power, corruption, marriage and pain when she found back her childhood friend – Giulia. Her belly round as a watermelon and her cheeks covered in a bright blush, she had told her about the man she had met, how he had set her free from her duties and loved her. On her quest to find that, too, she had tried to make her way into a darkened tavern, but without much luck. She felt she was about to collapse underneath her own miseries when she found him. He had been a stranger to her, though it had felt as though she had known him for a long time when the two started talking. The way his voice sounded in her head, the gentle touch of his hand… it had been welcoming, warm and very safe. Just when she thought she had found what she had been looking for all her life, everything crashed down. The day after her meeting with the stranger, she did
see him again. Accompanied by her father. She had fallen in love with her elder brother, one that she didn't know she had and whom had been a child of her parents’ honeymoon. He stood tall, seemed to be a man of honour and had an air of kindness around him, yet she could not have him and that wrenched her heart in many different ways. She knew that he knew who she was, and felt it would only be a matter of time before he'd leave Venice for another place – yet he did not. That's where Ariana started realising that God may not always be turned against her, and decided to push her luck.
It's pretty obvious that I am looking for something different than I have done so far, as I have never really been into it much. Lately, incestuous stories have caught my eye more than ever and I feel like I should do this, simply because some things in life aren't as easy as they look, and incest seems to occur more often than people like to think. I am currently writing on another story set in the late fifteenth to the early sixteenth century and do not duplicate
stories, if you're concerned about that. A few things that can be changed are their ages: in the 1400’s-1500’s, it was very unusual for a woman not to be married at twenty. I do not care much about her age, but I assume that the male in this story will have to be older than she is. Fifteen to twenty years is my maximum, but I can go with less
. Aside from that, a thing I want to settle: their way of talking and communicating. I am looking for a plotline with a little bit of angst – I mean, it's not like I *have* to make her into a sad person, but being inspired by stories from back in that time when people turned to their siblings simply because they felt unloved – but can leave a lot of that out as she *will* have gone on with her life, for the most part, but is still used to the thought of “sex is sacred” and will need a lot of courage (which she *will* get, of course – why else would I play this?) to do it. She will talk in a bit of an old-fashioned way as in, not saying “cool”, “awesome” and “da bomb”, but more like: “fascinating!”, “interesting!” and “that is só exciting!”.
I am looking for someone who:
Can write on a daily / once every other day basis. This is a must for me to keep the storyline going. I have a habit of checking with people if they’re still interested if the time between posts gets too long, but don't stalk, whatsoever. I like to know your
preferences and want to make this into something special for us both, not just myself. I like to satisfy men
Is literate. Speaks for itself that I have got at least the basics of English grammar down, and I don't do leetspeak whatsoever.
And last but not least: please, dare to speak up if something doesn't please you in our play. I do not godmod (have done that once but it didn't feel right), but have to know where you are aiming at so that we can both take steps in the storyline.
I am looking forward to hear from you, SALUTE!